A Christmas Carol
by inkywings
Summary: A remake of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol with characters from Kingdom Hearts. Includes Riku as Scrooge, Sora as Marley, and an assortment of Disney characters. Christmas gift for Fire! Merry Christmas!
1. Sora's Ghost

**As the summary says, this is a re-make of _A Christmas Carol_, re-written with characters from Kingdom Hearts. The writing is different, and this has been beta'ed by three different people, and myself. So I know that if you run into a grammar mistake, it isn't right; it's just a different writing style. Also, there are no conjunctions, and the characters speak differently. As in olden language.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts characters, nor do I own Charles Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_. **

**Finally, before you read, this is for one of my best friends, Fire. I have no clue how to say this without sounding mushy... but here it goes anyway. Fire, you were the very first friend I made online and one of the closest, and I've never held a friend so long without losing them. I just wanted to give you something really special this Christmas, so this is for you. Merry Christmas, Fire! You deserve a lot more than this story, but I don't know how to give something more. Please like it… Now go and read, shoo!**

_Sora's Ghost_

Sora was dead, to begin with. Let no one ever doubt this. His wooden cradle was buried six feet under, tears had been wept, the minister had signed the registration, and his personal items had been swept away into the arms of his many friends and family.

Sora has about as much of a pulse as there was sanity in a room of screaming rabid fan girls. A very small room.

Of course, many would say that fan girls do, in fact, have some sanity left inside of them. But those who say this, I digress, are fan girls themselves and would rather jump off a cliff then see their favorite character get hurtled into a raging stampede of cattle. So therefore, Sora has as much of a pulse as said fan girls' had sanity.

Did Riku know he was dead? Of course he did! Riku had a solid head on his shoulders and a good mind in his head and many thoughts in his mind. And they all pointed to one thing: Sora was dead. Of course, any best friend would notice when their counterpart stopped breathing, face stony cold as their life trickled out in thin rivets of red blood that seeped from the corner of his mouth, freezing and crystallizing in the snow covered street as the carriage driver frantically called for help.

Speaking of the incident that, of course, remained etched in Riku's mind like stone and haunted his restless sleep at night, I do declare, thusly, that Sora is dead. I swear upon it. And so would Riku who, on the outside, could not have cared less for mourning a good friend as much as a business partner. But on the inside, lay curled in the depths of his frozen heart, lay a broken warmth that just would not go away.

Riku had never painted over his deceased comrade's name, nor cleaned out the desk or taken down the nameplate that read Sora Jinto off of the now dusty desk. Papers were still sloppily placed everywhere where the brunet had been, but Riku didn't mind too much. He always had given them a disgruntled look… when Sora was alive. But now, he just looked at them with a solemn, slightly wistful, gaze.

Riku never let out just how much he missed his best friend. Seldom few even thought he cared. Actually, let me clarify that. No one knew how Riku felt on the inside; all they saw was his frosty cold demeanor and left it at that. Plain and simple.

Oh! but if they only knew. If they knew that his heart was not as frozen solid as they deemed it, and that his hardened gaze did once become soft and secure. His silver hair was not that color because it matched his icy expressions and attitude. His cold green eyes were not hardened by his behavior. His pale skin was not borne from Satan itself, and his brute strength did not point to the fact that he spent most of his time in an alley and beating anyone up who had come to pass.

Riku had only done that once. And they had deserved it that time.

The bitter cold nipped at his pale skin that was as pale as a ghost, face illuminated every now and then by the snow-covered lamp lights that stood tall on their solid black pillars. He passed by happy couples, squealing children, dogs dancing merrily and tumbling through the thick blankets of snow. Windows, lit only by the gentle light of a candle, were blown out one by one and the men in their proper white aprons came to flip the sign hanging on the banister in front of their stores from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSE'.

Hushed whispers exchanged between good friends as they giggled, glancing in Riku's directions, blushing softly. Old music crooned through open windows, the sultry voices blending in with ringing bells and laughter that cascaded through the air.

Riku hated it.

No one stopped by to get from him the news, not even the time of day. Perhaps they were afraid that Riku would not give it? Or perhaps they had never tried. No one asked him how things were going with the family because, for one, Riku had no family, and second, no one bothered to care.

But Riku did not care. He may have cared before, before the death of his partner. But not now. All he liked to do now was run his small business down the street, where he was headed for now, read the evening paper, drink his coffee, and go to bed.

Before I waste your time and continue the rant, let us start this fairy tale. At the risk of being cliché…

Once upon a time, on this very Christmas Eve, Riku sat at his desk, eyes half lidded, one hand cupping his cheek, elbow resting firmly on the desk for support. His quill scratched back and forth across the parchment, numbers, letters, blurring into a fascinating arrangements of shapes in his mind. But there were no shapes. Just plain old mathematical accounting.

The door to the small counting shop was slightly ajar, and Riku didn't bother himself in closing it. The coldness nibbled at the silver-haired man's nose, and made the roaring fire in the heater hiss and spit, crackling the wood that it burned. The windows creaked as the howling winds of winter barreled into them. But the windows of the old building stood their place, not giving into their bombarding attacks.

And then, the bell above the door jingled (Riku often had the urge to rip the cursed thing from it's hook), alerting him of the presence of a newcomer.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Riku!" the newcomer said gaily, a wide smile over his boyish face, cheeks cutely tinged with pink and ears looking like pieces of raw meat from the blistering cold. He had on an overly fluffy woolen scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, green, and a pair of bright red mittens on his hands. His blue eyes shone with a brilliant light, and his mussed blond hair was sprouting in every direction from the wind.

When Riku didn't respond, Tidus' face fell a bit. However, a moment later, it was back and brighter then ever. "Merry Christmas Eve!" he quipped, as if Riku hadn't heard him the first time.

"Whatever," Riku sniffed, not bothering to look up at the other employee.

Not at all affected by his boss' behavior, Tidus bustled in, stamping his feet so that snow slid off of his worn brown boots and soaking into the wicker mat on the floor by the threshold.

"Oh come now, Riku!" Tidus said. "Lighten up a bit! It is Christmas Eve! A reason to be merry, not sulk in here by yourself!"

"And what reason have you to be merry, eh?" Riku scoffed, still not looking up; he was busy copying lines in his tiny, neat scrawl. "You and your family are poor, so how can you possibly be happy?"

"Now, now, Riku, do not say that!" Tidus laughed. "It is not the wealth of the family that matters during Christmas! It is the love!" He grinned, eyes dancing with mirth. "And if wealth matters, then you should be joyous on this fine Christmas! You are rich enough!"

"Whatever," Riku repeated sternly, eyes flicking up to send a cross glare at the young man.

"Oh do not be so cold!" Tidus reprimanded.

"How can I not be cold?" Riku snapped, finally looking up. "With all of this Christmas trash lining the streets, crowded stores, everyone getting in the way just to say 'Merry Christmas'! Ha! I say curse it all, and get it all out of my way." The ink at the end of Riku's quill was starting to dry, but the owner took no notice of it. "I say keep your holiday; I have no need of it."

"But everybody loves Christmas!" Tidus insisted. His voice was slightly muffled by the thick, hand-knitted sweater that twined around his slim neck. Tugging it down a bit so he could speak more clearly, he said, "Why not let yourself enjoy the holiday? Me and my wife would be glad to have you!"

"Whatever," Riku said nonchalantly. He went back to scribbling on his paper, numbers forming long lists that were useless, to be forgotten by the clerk in the morning.

"I am serious!" Tidus said, chuckling. "Me and Selphie want you to come and have dinner with us!"

"I don't want to have dinner with you _or _your wife," Riku hissed. With a sigh, he asked, in a heavy voice, "Why did you have to go and get married to that woman, anyway?"

Not at all affected by those cold words, the blond replied, "Because I fell in love, Riku!"

"Hmph, love!" Riku snorted. Giving up on working on his papers tonight, Riku gently licked the end of the quill before rubbing it on a ink-splattered handkerchief on his desk, cleaning it as best as he could before screwing the lid back onto the inkwell and returning the two items to their proper stations. Only when this task was accomplished did he speak again. "I have no time for your merry 'spirit', Tidus. Now go back to your poor family and let me be."

"What could you possibly be doing tomorrow?" Tidus exclaimed. "It is Christmas time, Riku! A time you once held just as dear as I! A time to spend time with your loved ones and friends!"

"I have no family, nor loved ones, nor friends!" Riku spat heatedly, standing up at last; he stood a good head above Tidus. But this didn't matter, seeing as Tidus was standing several yards away from the man. "And I don't need to share with you and yours!"

"We could be friends, Riku," Tidus offered. "And my family would welcome you, you know that!"

"Whatever," Riku growled. Licking his fingers, he clamped the over the wick of a burning candle. The flame hissed, flickered, and then died with only a trail of dwindling smoke as a clue as to the flame's existence. "I do not like Christmas, what makes you think I'd like to spend it with you? Your family is poor, without a silver bit to it's name! I do not even understand how you can _possibly_ enjoy it!"

Chest puffing out indignantly, Tidus drew a deep breath before speaking. "Christmas time is not a season to spend counting your quarters, judging what you have and others don't, or what others have that you don't! It is a humble time in which we all forgive each other and may make peace with each other, cherishing our happy times and the happy times to come! It brings us all together, Riku! It is not about presents or tinsel, holly or wealth! It is a time of love and peace, and for all those who take part in these holidays, and God bless them! And when our Christmas time rolls around, to remind us of the things we have and the warmth we feel, then God bless it!"

A clerk, who Riku had forgotten was there (his room was in a small room attached to the main counting quarters) burst into applause, still in his seat, face bright in encouragement and merriment. Tidus beamed at him just as brightly, laughing. But with a quick glance at the icy look on Riku's face, the clerk quieted, coughing a bit before going about his closing duties.

"Enough of this frivolous foolishness," Riku commanded, tone better. "Go, go about your day, Tidus. Spend your day on that God blessed holiday; enjoy that feeling of warmth, until you receive a cold slap of reality the next morning. And I will not be here to bandage your burning cheek for you! Go!"

"I shall!" Tidus said, smile never faltering as if Riku had not just predicted a most treacherous outcome of the holiday spirit. "Merry Christmas, Riku!"

"Good night."

"And a Happy New Year!"

"_Good night!_"

And with a swift tilt of his head, a twinkling laugh, a swoosh of battered cloak, Tidus was gone.

Riku sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance; he could feel a headache coming on. Perfect.

The man was just making plans that included sleeping through the entire Christmas day when a short man walked up to him; the clerk.

"I suppose you would like the entire day off tomorrow, wouldn't you?" Riku muttered, glowering at him. The look didn't have much bite in it, though, his resolve slipping away due to fatigue.

"If it is convenient, sir," the clerk replied with a small bow.

"It is not convenient," Riku said. "But I suppose you can have the day off… no one shall be coming to the bank on Christmas day."

"Thank you, sir. 'Tis most generous of you." Another bow, deeper this time and a small smile playing on the shorter, but older, man's lips.

"Just come in that much earlier the day after," Riku said.

"I will, sir." The clerk looked like he was about to say something else, mouth hanging open slightly, but he shut it again. With a small grunt, as if it could excuse the notion, the clerk swept past, keeping his eyes on the coat rack and not meeting the sea-green eyes that were bearing into his back. Swinging a heavy, worn coat over his shoulder, pressing a hat onto his balding head, and picking up a cane leaning on the wall, the old clerk hobbled from Riku's sight and out into the frosty night.

Riku was just about to leave himself when the door jangled open for the second time that night. Looking up wearily, Riku watched as two more people came in, a man and a woman. The man had flaming red hair that stuck up, but unlike Tidus', it stuck up in only one direction. He had on a dark brown coat with matching scarf, a packet of parchment tucked under his arm and a fountain pen in hand. The woman standing nest to him had black hair that was cropped short, just below her earlobe, and thick earmuffs covering her ears; her dark eyes danced merrily with mischief as she beamed at Riku.

"Hello, Mr. Riku!" she chirped happily, shifting from foot to foot with her arms folded behind her back as she grinned deviously at him. "Looking as handsome as always, hm?"

"Yuffie, shush for a moment, ya?" the redhead asked, mahogany eyes shining sympathetically at Riku. "Hey. Long time no see."

Riku nodded at the newcomers, waiting impatiently for them to state the reason they were troubling him so late at night. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can!" Yuffie spoke excitedly. "You see, the orphanage down the street is not doing too hot and…"

"I'll take care of this, Yuffie," Wakka chuckled, evidently not willing to let Yuffie mess this up. "The orphanage down the street is having a bit of trouble and the government's going to close it down. It needs a lot of repairs, and it takes up too much money. So we are collecting contributions from people in the town, and since your business runs so well, we figured you'd have a healthy sum to give up to support the cause." With a friendly smile, Wakka asked, "What should I put you down for?"

Riku's eyebrow twitched. "Nothing."

"You wish to be anonymous?" Yuffie asked, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

"No, I wish to be left alone," Riku replied frostily. "Put me down for nothing; I have nothing to contribute."

"But Riku!" Yuffie pleaded. "The orphanage needs the money!"

"And what has the orphanage ever done for me?" Riku snorted. "Leave here, gentleman and lady, I have nothing to give to you. Good day to you both."

"But…"

"Good day!"

Wakka and Yuffie quickly glanced at each other, silently agreeing that the case was a lost one. With a few muttered "Happy Holidays," they both walked out of the room, bells jangling with a wistful tune in their retreat.

An hour or so later, clock ticking away the dismal time as it rounded on 11 'o' clock, the sound of laughter and chatter absent from the cold air. Bells had stopped ringing, shop lights were extinguished; sloppily built snow men lined the roads, tinsel and holly twining around lamp posts that were planted by the cobblestone sidewalk that was covered in a thin layer of ice and powdery white. Dusty light from the lampposts bathed Riku and the snow in a warm glow, a perfect contrast to the bitter ice that incased the young man's heart.

The cold iron gate, which surrounded Riku's old house, was frigid and slippery with ice as his bare hands fumbled for the catch on the pole. Finding it, he flipped it up and pushed it open, the rusty metal swinging in its hinges and letting Riku walk the rest of the way up to his door. He did not bother to close and lock it; no one ever came within five yards of the house, anyway.

He had his keys half-drawn from their home in his pocket when he saw it. Now, as I've told you, Riku has a solid head on his shoulders and a good mind in his head and many thoughts in his mind. It was what these thoughts were telling him that made him second-doubt himself, though.

Instead of the usual door knocker upon the wreath-less woodened paneling, a doorknocker in the molding of a wolf with the knocker hanging from it's jaws, Riku saw Sora's face, staring at him with cold, bronze eyes. Spiky hair the way it always was, defying all laws of physics that Riku had ever cared to learn of from a book. Momentarily breathless, Riku stared until an involuntary blink shielded his gaze for a twinkle of a moment. But when he re-opened his eyes, there was no face of a deceased best friend; just the cold, bronze wolf, staring at him with sightless eyes and an unfeeling glare.

Panting slightly, sea-green eyes wide, cold breath billowing in thick spurts in front of his face as they condensed into clouds that hung over his brows, Riku blinked again. And again. But the doorknocker did not change a third time. The same old wolf, there from the time he had inherited it from his great grandfather.

"Urgh…" Riku groaned, running numb fingers through his mane of silver hair. Too little sleep, he decided. Fumbling with the keys in the bitter wind, Riku managed to insert one into the keyhole and turn it until the door sounded with a reassuring _clink _of bolts. Pulling the key out and returning it to the pocket of his long overcoat, Riku twisted the doorknob and pushed it open with a jolt, albeit harshly as he scurried inside.

Sora's face swimming in and out of his mind, clogging his senses, Riku carefully peered around through the darkness. He looked at the door before locking it shut for the night, a little part of his mind thinking he would see the rest of the brunet's body sticking out from the door. Riku made a mental note to himself to lock this part of his mind away in solitary confinement as soon as possible.

The house was dark and cold, and Riku was sure that if it dropped one or two more degrees in here, he would start seeing his own breath freezing before his very eyes. Riku felt for the box of matches that he always kept on the side table by the door and his cold hands grasped at it greedily, picking it up and sliding the casing open. After pulling out one of the thin wooden rods, he attempted to light it, striking it some five times against the box before realizing he was trying to light the wrong end. Grumbling something even he couldn't make sense of, Riku flipped it around and scraped it roughly along the side of the case. With a hiss and a spark, the end ignited in a small flame, it's wonderful warmth soothing Riku's frostbitten hands.

Carefully carrying the match, it's feeble light struggling to stay aflame, he lowered it into a glass case, the fire catching on a burnt wick. Once assured that his lamp was properly burning, Riku flicked his wrist until the match died out in a whip of air. Tossing it into the unlit furnace (Riku didn't bother lighting it, he did not mind the cold too much), he slowly made his way to the stairs that led to the upper floor of his house. His house, not his home. It had ceased being his home as soon as the last breath left Sora's body, and when the casket was lowered, leaving Riku alone in the house he had once shared with his best friend.

Ignoring the grumbling pain in his stomach, Riku sauntered up the steps, eyes drooping as he tried to suppress a large yawn. At the top of the stairs, there was a left and right. Down the left led to a room Riku hadn't entered in a long time… the room was Sora's, and Riku feared venturing into it. He had managed to gain some control over his bad memories, and he did not want to lose that control. So he went right, past the cold bathroom, past the cupboard, and into his own room.

His door was shut, but he pushed it open. The curtains were drawn tightly over the window and stayed like that both night and day. The hard wood floor was freezing and icy, hollow sounding as Riku stepped across it to his bed where he sat down with a soft _plop_, shrugging off his long overcoat before doing so and throwing it lazily over the chair. It missed by at least a foot, landing heavily on the rug in a crumpled heap. But Riku didn't bother to fix this. Instead, he kicked off his boots before lying down, softly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose again. His mind flooded with the day's events; Tidus, the charity people, the door knocker, Sora… Sora's face… in the doorknocker.

With an aggravated sigh, Riku mumbled, "Whatever," to no one in particular before crawling under the sheets. He did not even bother to get changed into something more suitable for sleeping, drowsiness washing over his aching body and easing the steady pounding in his head. The day had been a long one, and for Riku, he was looking forward towards its closing. Maybe, if he was lucky, there would be a snowstorm tonight that would keep people inside of their houses and away from him. Riku's plans? To sleep the day away, and for once, not get haunted by the nightmares of his past.

The pounding in his ears was slowly returning, he found moments later, but more clearly defined. The pounding turned into scraping… a scraping sound? Now this was new. With a feral growl, Riku tossed and turned in his bed, stubbornly trying to get rid of the cursed racket. But it was no use. Groaning, he sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes in annoyance. But the scraping sound didn't stop. No, as a matter of fact, it grew louder. And louder. And terrifyingly closer.

Heart racing, breath quickening and eyes wide, Riku waited. Yes, it was definitely getting closer, and not in his own head. And… a whisper. Riku could hear whisperings. A soft, haunting melody that echoed deep within the house, rumbling and trembling as it entered the man's ears. His name. Someone was softly calling Riku's name.

Sitting up straighter, fingers unconsciously tugging the sheets closer to himself, a distant memory rang through his mind. The voice… sounded so much like Sora's. During thunderstorms, or any kind of storm, Sora would call Riku's name like that, asking to be let in, seeking comfort in the darkness from his best friend, frightened by the weather that billowed through the perilous night.

"_Riku… Riku…_"

Riku shook his head, scooting backwards a bit more. It sounded so much like Sora, but the brunet was long since dead! Riku would not believe it! He _could_ not believe it!

The scraping noise stopped right outside Riku's door and the silver-haired man realized with a start that he had left in unlocked. And sure enough, he watched at the doorknob slowly turned, jiggling slightly, before the door slammed open, a warm air gusting through the room and washing over Riku's shaking form.

"_Hey, Riku!_"

Riku knew that voice, and he knew the man from whose mouth it flowed. Their stood Sora, bold as brass, beaming with a bright intensity that seemed to glow with the warmth that had suddenly spread throughout the room. Riku noticed that Sora's voice, although energetic as he remembered it, seemed to have a light echo in it, as if he were talking from very far away.

"_Riku… don't you remember me?_"

Shaking slightly, Riku slowly pushed the covers off of himself and softly swung his legs off of the mattress. Sora smiled, albeit sadly, as he watched Riku stand up on shaking legs, knees buckling a bit as he took in Sora's body. He could see… he could see right through it!

It had to be a trick, Riku figured. Stomach and mind joining forces to give his darkest nightmare a tangible form that stood right before his eyes. Riku should have eaten something… or gotten more sleep… now he was being plagued by his memories. What had he done so wrong to deserve this on such a night?

"_You… you don't believe in me, do you?_" Sora whispered, cocking his head to the side sadly. "_You do not think I am really here?_"

"Well how can you be?" Riku asked reverently, eyes driving relentlessly into Sora's ghostly ones. "This is nothing but a trick on the eyes. Too little sleep, I presume…"

"_Or lack of food!_" Sora added helpfully. _"You never did eat enough, Ri-ku! Heh heh…_"

This confirmed it, at least in Riku's mind; this was just a dream. An illusion, if you will. Only Sora had ever said Riku's name like that, and it was only Sora that Riku would allow.

"I do not appreciate being taunted by my memories…" Riku murmured skeptically, eyeing Sora's ghost wearily. "Please, I just wish to sleep."

"_Through the entire holiday, right?_" At Riku's nod, Sora sighed. "_You know, that's really part of the reason I am here…_"

"Why, because I just want to sleep through this retched holiday?" Riku snorted.

Sora glared, face pulling into more of a stubborn pout then anything. _"What's with you? You used to love Christmas… you used to love so many things…_"

"Not anymore." Riku rolled his eyes. "Ghost, Sora, illusion, nightmare… if you would not mind, I'd like some sleep now. Please, plague another soul, for this one is too tired to deal with you right now."

At this, Sora really did look angry. He glared, and it was the first time Riku had seen his friend looking so angry. "_Just listen to yourself! For one moment, think about the words that you speak! You have grown so world-weary, trying to desperately to hide the bonds that connected you with a happy life! You will not even admit to anything that has happened since my death, Riku! You hide it all underneath your mask, colder then I am now! And it is because of this you have not moved on! It is because of this that I am this way!_"

"What rubbish do you speak of?" Riku snarled, eyes angry, but fright shining within their aqua depths. "It is not my fault you are like this! Never my fault!"

"_So you believe? You believe that I am here?_"

"Yes," Riku ground out through gritted teeth. "It can only be you, Sora, to come like this! Only you with your tone, only you with those eyes, your hair… but why do you haunt me now? What have I done to you to make you come to me like this?"

"_I have been like this ever since I was buried,_" Sora whispered, tone dropping it's previous anger, and now filled with grief and sadness. "_No one truly dies. Their spirit shall live on. But…_" Sora sighed, _"a spirit cannot move on until all those who have known it can accept the person's death. No spirit can leave this world until the ones who loved it most move on, until they accept the dead's fate. And you, Riku… because you've hidden it all, bottled all of your emotions upside of you… have never accepted my death. And I lay chained to this world until the day that you move on!_"

"I know you are dead!" Riku snarled. "I was there, Sora! I saw your dead face, the blood leaking out of your veins, leaving you dry as death all that time ago on this very Christmas day!"

"_You know I died, but you do not accept it!_" Sora insisted. "_And until that day, when you finally admit to my passing, I remain here!_"

Riku watched in horror as Sora stepped into the room fully, passing through the threshold to stand face-to-face with his best friend. Looking down, Riku let out a startled gasp. There, chained and cuffed around Sora's ankle, was a metal shackle, a long cord of thick chain running down from it and trailing behind Sora and out the door. The chain was huge and thick, the cutlets of metal at least five times as large as Riku had ever seen them before.

"_This is the chain I bear, Riku!_" Sora cried, bending down to pick up the chain and hold it arms length, shaking it angrily. _"This is the chain that binds me to this world until the day that you accept my death! The day you let down the walls you yourself created around your heart! The day you let warmth and love back into your soul!_"

Riku was trembling fully now, shaking his head back and forth in disbelief as he slowly stepped away. But Sora followed, determined gaze stopping the live one in his tracks, freezing his feet to the ground.

"_And I will help you._"

At this, Riku regained some of his composure. "Help me?" he asked. "How so?"

Sora's gaze grew soft once again, smiling a bit up at the older man. "_By returning the love of something you thought you'd lost one year ago,_" Sora replied. _"To return your love for the holiday you once held so dearly in your heart. For if you continue on this way, Riku… I shall never move on. And your fate... your fate will be worse than my own._"

"Worse then your own?" Riku repeated. "How can any fate be as horrible as this?"

Sora didn't answer. Instead, he said, _"Heed my words, Riku. For the next three nights, you shall be visited by three spirits._"

"For the next three nights? Can I not have them all at once and get it over with?"

"_Expect the first spirit,_" Sora went on as if Riku had not uttered, _"tomorrow, when the old church bell strikes one._"

"This is madness," Riku murmured.

_"Expect the second the next day at the same time._"

"Sora, please!"

"_And the third…_" Sora finished, again as if Riku has not spoken, "_shall pay you your last visit when the church bell chimes midnight of the third day._"

"And what if I refuse?" Riku quipped. "What if I don't believe in this? This foolishness? What will happen then, Sora? If I do not get haunted by these spirits?"

"_Then your fate shall be the same as my own,_" Sora replied.

"How so?"

_"You are the one who binds me here, Riku! And if you do not learn to love, to care, to open your heart as these spirits shall teach you to do, then your fate shall be as my own! You, who binds me to this earth, shall forever forge the chain between us! And that chain shall keep! And with me chained down to this world, a lost and forgotten soul, you shall stay here to suffer with me!"_

"Is this… is this my only choice, Sora?" Riku whispered, pulse quickening by the second.

"_It is,_" Sora answered. "_Heed my words, Riku! Three spirits, three nights, one chance to free yourself from the Hell you've locked yourself up into, and chained me to the door!_"

At the last echo of a word, the curtains Riku kept so tightly bound over the window ripped open, as did the windowpanes. Cold winter air erupted through the window, billowing and twirling around Riku in a torrent of ghostly wails made by long lost souls that curled around his arms, legs, spinning around his head and drumming through his ears.

"_This is your last chance, Riku!_" Sora shouted in a unearthly echo, face etched with pain and grief and loneliness. "_Abide by the spirits' teachings, and you shall not have to suffer this same fate!_"

An erupt crack that almost shattered Riku's eardrums split the cold air like a whip and in the blink of an eye, Sora's ghostly feet were plucked from the ground as he was pulled out the window by an unseen force, heavy chain following him and twirling about him like a kite tail.

Riku rushed towards the window with a startled cry of, "SORA!" His hands grasped the windowsill as he stuck his head outside. And there, he saw, was the most beautiful and frightening thing he had ever seen.

Below him in a whirlpool of blues and grays, blacks and whites, were more spirits then Riku could count in a lifetime. Rope, chains, shackles, twisted together in a mad melody of a broken song, lyrics sung in mournful wails of blurred spirits. Small children, woman, old men, babies... all chained and shackled, spinning 'round and 'round in a never-ending cycle as they screamed and cried for deliverance. Their face whipped in and out of sight, faces contorted in pure agony.

With a choked sob, Riku forced his wide eyes to snap shut and he wrenched himself away from his window, the sill starting to shake. Or perhaps it was the trembling of his own fingers.

He stumbled backwards until his knees hit the bed, buckling before sending him down onto the hard mattress. The air was cold and torrential, screams and cries striking deep cords in Riku's heart that he had never known to exist. He closed his eyes tightly, fists clenched and teen gritted together as he tried to ignore the screams. The cries. The loud moans. Creaking and clanging of thick chains.

And then, panting heavily, not even laying in-between the sheets, consciousness gave him mercy as he slipped into a deep sleep, spirits dying out and rampaging through his dreams, turning them into nightmares as he slept Sora's memory away.

_End_

**That's all. My almost non-existent ego took a critical blow when I re-read it and found all the clichés. And it took another blow when Digital pointed this out to me.**

**Any comments? Criticisms? If you would like me to change something, like bring back the conjunctions, then ask. But I won't change anything unless Fire asks me; it is, after all, her gift.**

**I hope you like it, Fire! The next few parts will be posted once a week until Christmas! I know this story isn't the greatest, or very creative, but I worked really, _really_ hard on it! Hell, I took notes! NOTES! So even if you think it isn't too good, just know I tried, okay? Merry Christmas!**

**Lots of love from Wish, and a HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! And Merry Christmas, too XD.**

**WISH**


	2. The First of the Three Spirits

**Warning: This has not been beta'ed.**

**I think I piece of my soul got ripped out in the process of writing this. I put everything I had into it, which isn't a lot considering writing has gotten extremely difficult for me lately. And then I realized I have two weeks to finish this, so I kicked myself and began to write. So yeah, whatever.**

**For Fire because she's just plain impossible not to love and want to glomp. Did that sentence make sense? Oh whatever. You get my point. Please enjoy this story, Fire. I worked really, really hard on it.**

_The First of the Three Spirits_

Cold beads of sweat rolled down his pale skin, glistening in late noon light as eyelids slowly slid apart, a small groan of drowsiness rumbling from Riku's chest. Bright light, something he wasn't used to seeing in the morning, burned his irises and made his pupils dilate. Groaning and grumbling profanities under his breath in a hushed whisper, Riku sat up, arching his back until he heard a satisfying crack and felt the tension in his back snap.

Feeling better after stretching for a bit, Riku rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand as he yawned, keeping his hands hooded over his face to block out the offending light. Riku's sleep wear, which was, in actuality, the same outfit he has worn yesterday, clung to his skin with a clammy dampness that was the result of his cold sweat. His blankets and sheets were wrapped in a constricting vice grip around his chest and legs, evidence to the restless night of sleep he had had.

After a few moments of futile attempts to free himself from his cotton prison, Riku gave up and collapsed back down on the stiff bed, letting his thoughts wonder on their own accord as he tried to make sense of them. Tiny flickers and tidbits of his nightmare came floating through his mind and played across the dark sanctuary behind closed eyelids, like an old picture film with their unrealistic realities.

_"Hee hee, can't catch me, Riku!"_

Riku sighed. His friend's voice echoed dully inside of his crowded mind, parting itself easily through the twists of a maze that was the silver-haired man's very confused thoughts.

_"Sora, watch out!"_

Not wishing to dwell further on his befuddled memories, Riku began to squirm, gently at first, feeling the blankets and sheets slowly sidle from their suffocating snare, no longer cutting off the blood circulation in Riku's legs. When they were loose enough, the man slowly slid up until a few inches of his chest was exposed, then another few, freeing his arms at long last. He then began the slow process of unwinding the blankets until finally he was able to draw himself off of the bed with ease.

Cursing his nightmares, and the one whom had caused them, Riku softly padded over to his window.

"No wonder it is so bright," Riku grumbled. He snatched at the curtains which, for some reason, were wide open, and drew them shut with a _snap_. The light was abruptly cut off, lingering for the briefest of moments in aqua eyes before being shut and locked firmly behind the door of deep red velvet.

But the room was not completely dark. It was a dull, indescribable color that had always made Sora twitch. To Sora, it always had to be bright or dark (although preferably the former), and the in-between was just a meaningless existence of darkness and light. Riku found no problem with it back then, but now, it was bringing forth unwanted memories that had been left unattended for too long, and were ready to come back out, as was exemplified in his nightmare.

_"Someone, go get help!"_

Letting his eyes clench shut, Riku sighed before rubbing at his right temple with middle finger and forefinger in a distracted manner. The dream had been so real... so chilling. It brought his childhood memories to a frothing boil in his heart and sometimes, when Riku was alone with nothing to distract himself with, it would all boil over in a thick stream of tears that wove cryptic words upon his cheeks, a benevolent promise that those memories would never become reality. Ever again.

_"Sora, please! Sora, wake up! Don't leave me, please! **SORA**!"_

Feeling the muscles in his chest to grow uncomfortably tight, Riku took a deep, calming breath. He relaxed the clenching of his eyelids in order to minimize the sting hot tears were making at the corners of his eyes. After a few moments, the silver-haired man opened his eyelids. But it wasn't because of the returning sensation of comfort and resolution, but the distant chime of the old clock tower on the center of Destiny Isle, which stood at the brink of a sandbar that only made itself present at early dawn.

"Quarter past twelve..." Riku murmured, remembering the familiar chimes that were forever sketched in his brain as permanent memoirs.

**_"For the next three nights, you shall be visited by three spirits..."_**

****"Half past."

**_"Expect the first spirit tomorrow, when the old church bell chimes one."_**

****"Quarter of."

**_"This is your last chance, Riku!"_**

****"One."

Riku waited. He stood there tensely, brow furrowed, heart beat rising in his chest. He stood there, facing the curtained window, with the air of an impatient man. Finally, several moments later, Riku snorted. "Three spirits," he muttered. "Whatever."****

****"Hey! Don't you 'whatever' me!"

Riku froze. The air suddenly became quite thick, choking off the air that fought for passageway into his lungs. The voice, which sounded loud and somewhat distant, came from behind him. Riku waited, praying to any deities that the voice would not speak again.

"Hey, turn around when I'm talking to you! I don't have all day, ya know!"

His prayer was, most unfortunately, unrequited.

Taking a deep breath, Riku slowly spun on the spot to face the man with the most annoying voice. However, when he was fully turned and had raised his eyes to meet the intruders', his mouth fell slack as his jaw dropped a good few inches, eyes bugging from their sockets before he gave a startled cry and leapt backwards, back crashing into the wall.

There before him stood not a man, but what looked like an over-sized duck. It had eyes as bag as saucers, which were currently narrowed into a glare. His white-feathered wings were folded and leaning on his hips. A bare, orange webbed foot was tapping against the cold wooden floor impatiently, the other stationary to his right. On his torso he wore a white jacket with gold fastenings clipping it together, a gold chain dangling from the right breast pocket along with a daintily folded handkerchief. On his head was an elfish looking hat with thin strands of holly interlacing around the edges, golden lace intertwined with the fresh green pine. The tip of the hat drooped down to the left in a fashion that Riku found slightly annoying.

However, the crooked hat was the least of what Riku thought of as wrong at the moment.

"Who... who are you?" Riku stuttered, gulping nervously.

"I'm the Easter Bunny," the duck grumbled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, didn't you listen to a _word _Sora said?"

"Sora?" Riku blinked. "So... you're one of the spirits?"

The duck sighed. "Yup. Name's Donald." Clearing his throat and standing up straightly, looking quite proud, Donald said, "And I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past!"

"Long past?" inquired Riku, ever observant.

"No!" Donald snapped. "Your past! Honestly, I'm not here to give you a history report! I'm doing this on my own time for Sora!"

"Sora?" Riku muttered. "You... you know Sora?"

"Know him? Of course I do!" Donald quacked impatiently. "Me and Goofy are the only ones who can keep the poor kid company! We get to visit the Spirit Realm every now and then on account of business, so we see him when we can."

"Sora... sent you to me?"

"Of course!" Donald replied. "He really cares about you, Riku! And you aren't doing a very good job of repaying him." Riku had decency the to look ashamed of himself. Donald nodded approvingly. "All right, then. Let's get outta here!"

"Out of here?" Riku repeated apprehensively. "Why, Spirit? Where do you wish to take me?"

"Look, I've told you before, kid..." Riku twitched at being called a 'kid', "...my name's Donald, not Spirit. That's the name of a horse."

Before Riku could question about said horse, Donald snapped, "Now come on over here! I don't bite! We don't have much time!"

"You're a Spirit," Riku pointed out. "Can you not just create more time?"

"All right, let me rephrase that." Donald cleared his throat. "Riku, I have a life. And I don't need to be spending my whole Christmas Eve trying to save a seemingly hopeless soul. So if you don't mind, get over here!"

A bit hesitant at first, Riku slowly took a step forward. And then, realizing his own foolish fearfulness, he walked briskly over to the duck and crossed his arms over his chest. "I am ready."

"What, not afraid anymore?"

"I am not afraid," Riku protested calmly. "Now please, if you will... Donald... I too have business to attend to."

Donald rolled his eyes. "Ungrateful brat," he muttered before saying, loudly this time, "All right, just put your hand over my heart."

"Over your what?"

"My heart. The thing you seem to be lacking."

Glaring, Riku ignored the insult and placed his hand softly over the duck's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of a heart beating against his palm. The area was warm beneath Riku's cold hand, and seemed to pulsate with a life he had never thought possible. Until the pulse grew stronger and stronger, sending wave after wave of a tingling warmth up Riku's arm. And then... everything changed.

Riku blinked as he looked around. He could hear... seagulls. Yes, definitely seagulls. Their sharp cries filled his insides with a wonderful warmth. Something soft and salty blew in his face, and it seemed that pieces of the wall seemed to be deteriorating before his very eyes, blowing away in a gentle spray of sea mist and to be replaced with a bright blue sky and a beaming, yellow sun. Crystal blue waves lapped at the hardwood floor, leaving behind sugar-white sand and tiny fragments of sea shells, long-since dead clams buried beneath the sediment.

"I... I know this place..." Riku whispered in amazement. He slowly withdrew his hand and took a step back, feeling his feet sink a bit in the soft, warm sand. "This.. this is where I grew up as a boy," Riku reminisced, a small grin that felt almost foreign spreading across his lips. "This is Destiny Islands!"

"Well, one of them," Donald reminded him. Riku ignored him in favor of looking around. "It's just as I remember it! There's... there's the tree house! And the entrance to the secret place!"

Ignoring Donald's soft chuckled, Riku ran past him, towards the waterfall, seeing something that made his heart leap in his chest. "Axel!" Riku cried, remembering the shock of red hair anywhere. "And... and Larxene! And Zexion!"

"They can't hear you, Riku," a sad voice behind him said.

Spinning around to face Donald, Riku demanded, "Why not?"

"Because these are just the shadows of your past," Donald informed him. "They aren't real, Riku. These are just images created by your own mind."

Riku didn't bother replying. Instead, he just stared at them. Axel had a candy cane lodged between his teeth, and Larxene was laughing at something. Or, most likely, at someone. Zexion was leaving against a rock, the perfect image of calm indifference as he stared up at the sky.

"Why... why bring me here, Spi---Donald?"

Donald shrugged. "Dunno," he replied. "Is there something you'd like to see?"

Riku blinked. Anywhere? Riku didn't know where else to go. But his feet didn't seem to care, as they were already leading him away from the small group of friends.

"Hey... where are you going?" Donald inquired, waddling behind the silver-haired man as he continued to walk bricking to a small, rickety wooden staircase.

Riku climbed it cautiously, skipping the rotten stairs on old instinct. It led him up past a small wooden shack, where he remember practice weapons were stored, and onto a small sandy cliff.

The sand made no noise as Riku padded across it in almost a trance, eyes glued to the view in front of him. He heard Donald stop beside him, but he didn't bother to look down at him.

There, on the edge of the small cliff, was a tree. It almost looked like a over-large palm tree, only the trunk was bent over a full 90 degrees, forming a small bench on which to sit. It's leaves hung over the shallow sea, small fruits in the shape of starts hanging from green twigs. And sitting on the trunk was a small boy who appeared to be the age of ten, with short tresses of silver hair that ended just below his jaw line. His bright green eyes were transfixed on the great expanse of sea in front of him. His skin was as pale as a full moon and practically glowed under the suns rays, looking almost unhealthy. Full lips were drawn into a slight, sad frown, gaze sorrowful as he continued to stare.

"Why... why are you out here all by yourself?" Donald asked hesitantly, looking up in curiosity.

"I... I wasn't wanted at home," Riku whispered. "Sora was spending Christmas with his family... and I had no where else go to."

"Why not to home?"

Riku snorted derisively. "Home was the one place I wanted to avoid," Riku said softly. "I wasn't wanted there. My father did not care for me much... after my mother passed away."

"It must be hard, huh?"

Riku blinked, tearing his gaze away from his former self to look down at his feathery companion. "What?"

"To grow up like that," Donald elaborated. "To not be wanted anywhere... even during the holidays. Is this why you hate Christmas?"

Riku said nothing.

"Let's visit another Christmas, then."

Riku sighed, closing his eyes briefly to calm himself. He felt a slight vibration in the air, and when he opened them, he found himself looking at the same thing, only with several key differences. His former self looked to be a few years older now, the stairs were repaired now, and there were a few boats out on the horizon.

The younger Riku was leaning against the trunk of the tree now, arms crossed over his chest. His bare arms, unveiled by a sleeveless shirt, were starting to show some muscles, and his hair was slightly linger. His gaze was no longer mournful, but hard and stony as he just stared at the ground.

"Riku!" Both Riku's looked towards the stairs to see a red-headed girl come trotting up the stairs, her long sundress dancing merrily around her knees and sandals slapping between the sand and her feet. Her red hair brushed softly across her shoulders and fine purple eyes sparkled over rosy cheeks.

"Kairi...?" the younger Riku asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to bring you back home!" Kairi giggled. "Come on! Papa sent for you!"

"Why would he want to see me?" Riku scoffed, turning his head to glare at the sand at his side.

"No, Riku, he's changed! Honestly!" Kairi grinned. "While you've been staying at Sora's, Papa's changed! He spoke so sweetly to me last night before bed I wasn't even afraid to ask him if I could bring you home! And he said yes! He said I should come right away!"

Riku finally looked up, hope dancing in his green eyes. "Are you serious?" he murmured, astounded. "He really... he really wants me to come home?"

"That's what I just said, silly!" Kairi giggled. She rushed forward and wrapped her thin arms around him in a warm embrace. "He wants you to come back home, Riku! We can be a family again!"

Riku watched as the two young children embraced each other, laughing, before Kairi pulled away and grabbed onto Riku's wrist, pulling the laughing boy behind her as they raced for the stairs together. The older man smiled a bit at the two, who were still laughing, as they ran for the docks.

When Donald spoke, Riku wiped the smile from his face; he had forgotten that Donald was there. "I... heard about Kairi from Sora," Donald spoke sadly. "I heard that she died.. at a very young age."

"Too young a age," Riku said coldly.

"But not before she got married... and had children," Donald reminded him.

"She had one child," Riku corrected.

"And that one child is your nephew... Tidus."

Riku said nothing. He just stood there, staring blankly at the sea. He could here the faint sound of laughter in the background, mixed in with the cry of the seagulls and crashing of waves. It was soft and melodic, almost soothing Riku's cold heart.

The silver-haired man clamped his eyes shut, trying in vein to block out the noise. He couldn't go soft now. Not now. Not after all he had been through, after all of the time spent carefully constructing the walls that blocked out the flood of his past...

The scenery was beginning to change again. The burnt pastels of the sky gave way to dark blues and shining dots that freckled midnight's shield. Soft flakes of snow scattered themselves amongst the twists and curls of wintry breath, twirling around Riku and Donald in it's secluded flourishing for the briefest of moments before clearing away, leaving behind in it's place a log entryway.

"Here...?" Riku whispered quizzically. "Why here, Spirit?"

Donald sighed. "For the last time, it's 'Donald'! And don't you remember this place?"

"Of course I do," Riku said, snorting. "This is where I was apprenticed. Old Inkwell's place..."

"Then let's take a look, hm?" Donald suggested with a raised eyebrow. He smiled a bit in encouragement he couldn't express in his words and gestured wordlessly towards the door with a feathered wing. And hesitantly, very hesitantly, Riku stepped forward. Snowflakes blew through his body, filling him with a numbing cold that seemed perfectly unexplainable. Or perhaps the sense was heightened by his nerves?

Riku stepped through the wooden door.

The snowflakes stopped their blowing, darkness met it's end. A merry fire danced among ashes in the grate of the stove, joyous lights illuminating the large room with it's warmth and bright light. Faces, both young and old, spread with smiles, scattered around Riku, leaving the man in a dim unfeeling haze.

He blinked. Once. Twice. "Why did you bring me here?" he whispered. "There is nothing special about this particular Christmas..."

"Every Christmas is special!" Donald snapped. The duck had waddled in soon after his silver-haired charge. His voice didn't have as much bite to it, the rough edge thawed away by the warm merriment in the room, as he said, "And he," Donald pointed to the youth sitting in the corner, cheerfully conversing with a brunet boy, "seemed to think so, too."

But before the duck could finish his sentence, Riku had strolled over to the afore mentioned pair. He stopped shy of five feet, looking down at the two seated ones, eyes glazed over with sweet remembrance.

"C'mon, Riku, you've gotta stop working eventually!" Sora laughed, playfully shoving on his friends shoulder, bright blue eyes dancing with mischief. "It's Christmas Eve!"

"I know what day it is!" Riku chuckled, ignoring the brunet's playful banter as he continued to scratch away with his quill at the parchment that lay spread out on his lap. "Just a few more lines, and then I will be done!"

"Good!" Sora said, a mock glare on his boyish features, his age of sixteen years. "Then join in on the party!"

"I will, I will," Riku assured him. "But I will never finish if you keep on annoying me!"

"Hee hee!"

Something foreign tugged at the older man's lips, and it wasn't until he caught Donald smirking in triumph that he realized that the odd sensation he was feeling was a _smile_. He wiped it off by coughing a bit into his hand, withdrawing it only when he felt assured that his facial features were back under his control.

"So Sora worked with you too, huh?" Donald said casually, although the curiosity was evident in his words.

"Yeah," Riku snorted. "We both moved in here to work at the publishing shop..."

"And what happened?"

Riku shrugged.

The duck sighed in exasperation. "Okay, how about I just cut to the chase, since you _obviously _aren't gonna be helping me get there at any point in time..." Donald grumbled. "What happened to the kid, anyway?"

Riku was silent for a long moment, His eyes continued to watch the scenes play out before has very eyes, old memories he thought he'd kept locked tightly away slowly un-bolting their prisons and returning afresh in his bitter heart. He watched as his younger self finally finished his work, setting it down and laughing as Sora grabbed him by the arm and pulled him happily towards a gaggle of their friends by the door. All cupped warm mugs of hot apple cider in their palms, eyes brighter then the fire and voices lighter and more delicate then the ring of a fine bone china bell. Brightly colored suits and dresses, flashy pocket watches looped lazily from the pockets to show off to others.

It was all so warm... enticing...

But to Riku, it was absolutely suffocating.

"He... he passed away... a year ago..." Riku responded softly. The soft glow that was slowly began to envelope his heart was quickly swept away in a wave of icy tundra, like a candle in the wind. "There was...an accident."

Donald stared up with sad eyes, pity so strong it made Riku want to gag. But it felt like something was tugging at the weight that resided atop his heart, and the feeling lured him into continuation. "We were out in the snow... Sora started chucking snowballs. He always acted so childish." He gave a short, hollow chuckle at this. "One of his snowballs hit the hat right off of my head... and into the street. He ran to go and get it... but he didn't see it coming..."

"See what?" Donald asked quietly.

"The carriage heading straight towards him."

Neither said a word for a long time, both lost deep in contemplating thoughts. Riku watched as the two best friends walked side-by-side over the rickety table that was piled high with biscuits, cookies, and other baked good that the matron from the inn down the street had so graciously provided them with. Idle talk was exchanged as more people came up to talk with them, rich laughter echoing throughout the warm confines of the room.

"What happened after that...?" Donald asked gently, cautiously, as if he were afraid that the whole world would crumble around them if he spoke too fast.

"Nothing," Riku whispered. "He... died. And he left me here alone... I moved away from there, to a different island entirely. Tidus... he tried following me... I guess that's why he moved into the same town as me..." Riku gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders, but on the inside, he was burning. Heat rose within his chest, fisting into his heartstrings and yanking until they tore him to pieces. His eyes stung with a raw sensation, making him blink. He hung his head, ducking it to the side so that his silver hair feel in front of his face. He wouldn't let anyone, human or no, see him like this.

"Please... can I go home now?"

Donald paused, blinking up at him sadly. Riku caught this at the corner of his eye, but took no notice until he felt a cold trickling run down his body.

The warm, cozy room was slowly melting away around him, pooling at his feet before draining away and leaving a cold, desolate floor in it's wake. Curtains and drapes flopped from the ceiling and a bed anchored itself on the floor. Walls sprouted from the ground all around him and a rug blossomed in the middle of cherry-wood oak.

The furnace was empty save for cold coals that lay useless beneath the cast iron grates. The room tingled with a cold aura, draping over Riku in it's velvety thickness. As if by their own command, his legs moved him towards his stiff bed. His knees buckled slightly, allowing him to properly sit on the many quilts which, no matter the quantity, never brought him any means of warmth.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could contend with the frigid ice surrounding his inner thoughts as memories added to the glacier in a frosty clip.

He felt the only warm presence in the warm, that of the Spirit of Christmas Past, beginning to dwindle away in a soft gust of icy air. Looking up through silver bangs, he saw the duck's outline grow fuzzy, the pearly whiteness of his feathers blurring until they began to wisp out of sight. But not before...

"Riku... Sora misses you, too..."

And then he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, Riku's shoulders slumped, back drooping until he lie on the hard mattress. He felt unconsciousness beginning to pull at the corners of his mind, and he let it embrace him in a dreamless sleep. But unfortunately, it was too late as Riku felt the hot, wet trail of a single tear smooth over his pale skin, dripping into silver hair as he quietly cried himself to sleep.

_End_

**Such a long thing. Ugh. It'll take a miracle to get this story done by Christmas. But then again, what better time for miracles, eh?**

**Merry Christmas! Next update is tomorrow!**


	3. The Second of the Three Spirits

**Warning: This chapter had not been beta'ed.**

**One more chapter to go after this. Wow, it's taken such a long time! And Christmas is on Sunday, which is only two days away! (flails) Gah, how will I ever finish this on time?**

**Well, it is Christmas, so maybe something good will finally happen and I'll manage to finish it. I sincerely doubt it, but that's all right. Merry Christmas everyone.**

**And I'm glad you liked the last chapter, Fire. That brightened my day.**

_The Second of the Three Spirits_

The bells' chiming did not awaken him from his slumber, but instead caused his mind to grapple for the hazy existence of dreamless sleep it had once upheld. Memories of the night before stuck to his insides, going as far as to create a bitter taste on the inside of his mouth. It glued his eyes together tightly, darkness embedding his skin and laying still over his eyelids, clogging his ears so that the chiming of the bells was nothing more than but a muffled bark of brass.

Quarter past...

Riku shivered slightly above the covers, curling up into fetal position and fingers desperately clutching them as if letting go meant he'd slip off of the bed and into unearthly oblivion.

Half past...

He moaned slightly, a rancid sting echoing within the dry confines of his mouth and cracking the foggy aura surrounding his slowly-waking mind.

Quarter of...

_Please let it have all been a dream,_ Riku thought desperately. _Let me sleep... it was all a dream. Nothing but a nightmare..._

One.

Nothing happened. And nothing did happen. Riku lay as still as possible, the only movement in his desolate room the steady rise and fall of his chest underneath his clothes. His sea-green eyes were cracked open a sliver, dim light slipping through the crevice and washing over his irises, making him wince.

He blinked, quickly getting used to the dim light, before fully opening his eyes. His gaze darted over to the curtains. They were closed except for a slim inch in the middle through which evening light flowed though. A slice of the clock tower was just visible beneath the cotton folds, it's face reflecting years of time and wisdom from it's age. The hands that slowly ticked by, almost mocking the man with their crawling pace, slowly ticked to two minutes past one.

"Maybe it was a dream..." Riku whispered, his voice not entirely returned to him from his night of sleep. Slowly, he sat up and looked down. There were no sheets ensnaring his legs, no nightwear adorning his pale body. No softly glowing embers beneath spindly grates in the heater, lamp laying in a stationary unlit fashion. There was no noise, not even the chirping of the doves that had nested atop Riku's small house.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Or, perhaps, it had not been a dream.

Surprisingly, Riku had not jumped when the loud voice cracked through the silence in the room. He had felt the explosion of heat that radiated through the room, seeping into his body, mere moments ago. And he knew it could have only come from one thing...

"Another spirit, I presume?" Riku asked, sighing and raking his fingers through silver tresses before cracking his neck, refusing to look behind him at the newcomer.

"Ahyuck, yup! That's me!"

Riku frowned a bit. Donald's voice had been strange as well, uncommonly accented, just as this stranger's was. But he was not used to the way... it was spoken. What was with the laugh?

Slowly twisting his neck, upper torso contorted a bit to support the change in position, Riku took in the view of the... extremely odd creature.

There was no way as to tell what kind of species this spirit was, Riku realized. It stood at least a head above the man, some fix feet would be an appropriate guess. He (at least, what Riku assumed was a 'he') had thin black fur that matched the dark color of his round nose which perched itself on the tip of a peach-colored muzzle. Long, round eyes, bright with joyful wonder and happiness, looked at Riku interestedly. On his head was something that resembled a bowler hat, although it was much taller and drooped to the side a bit with a gossamer sheen. His hands were covered in white gloves and curled, resting on his hips. He had a silver tailcoat on, gold chain wrapping around his waist and trailing down gangly legs to meet white boots that puffed at the edges of creamy fluff. His jacket was tailored with bronze clippings that held it in place over a button down shirt.

"Who... are you?" Riku asked slowly. He thought 'what are you?' would have been a more appropriate question, but it was hardly polite.

"I'm Goofy! It's nice to meet'cha, Riku!" Goofy laughed, arms folding themselves over his chest. "Gawrsh, you look just like Sora said you would!"

"So you're another one of Sora's friends, eh?" Riku murmured apprehensively, beginning to doubt Sora's taste in companions.

"Yup, that's right! And I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present!"

"Present?" Riku blinked. "If it is the present that you represent, then why can I not simply walk the streets as I am now? I see all of the foolishness Christmas has brought these days; I have no need of seeing it through another's perspective."

"Oh yeah? Well I say you do, Mr. Grumpy Puss!" Smile curling down into a reprimanding frown, Goofy said, "I have to show ya what Christmas is really like! See if we can get those gray-colored glasses off of yer face!"

"Gray-colored glasses...?" Riku murmured, raising a thin silver eyebrow. "Do you not meant 'rose-colored glasses'?"

"Nope, they're gray-colored, all right," Goofy nodded. "With rose ones, all you see is good in the world! Although that's kinda bad, it ain't as awful as gray-colored ones. With yours, you overlook the good and are determined to see the bad! We've been watching you with Sora, Riku, for the past year. And even now, I can still see them stuck on your face!" He reached over and tapped the bridge of Riku's nose in a scolding manner.

Riku, who hadn't noticed the spirit had gotten so close to him, unconsciously reached up to rub at the spot where Goofy had tapped. Gray-colored glasses? Was that really how he saw the world?

_Well, _he mused, _it's better then going off gallivanting like the rest of the fools in this town._

"So are ya ready to go?" Goofy asked, happy smile back in place.

Riku worried if this creature was bipolar.

"Yes... but I have one question for you," Riku told him.

"Oh? And what's that?"

"What kind of... animal are you?"

Goofy laughed. "I'm a dog, of course!" Goofy shook his head wildly and it was then that Riku noticed two large, floppy ears that were previously plastered to the side of the dog's head. Also, a short tail, a foot or so, stuck out from a hole in his pants.

Briefly wondering as to why he had not noticed this earlier, Riku said, "All right then, take me where you wish. How many places will we be visiting tonight, Spirit?"

The dog held up one gloved finger. "Only one!" Goofy informed him, wagging the finger back and forth before curling it pack into place by his other four digits. "And none of that 'Spirit' stuff, either, 'kay? My name's Goofy!" Chuckling, he reached a hand out to Riku. "It's nice to meet'cha!"

Riku eyed the outstretched hand wearily. He had not met someone so friendly for a very long time... Tidus was quite jubilant as well, but this was different. A complete stranger, a warm heart...

Face set into one of determination, Riku reached out and clasped hands with the tall hound.

Goofy shook once.

And everything changed.

Riku felt as if he were being sucked down into the ground. Color blurred and whipped past him, skin straining to leave bone and tissue as it urged itself to go with the flourishing brightness that was quickly diminishing above their heads. Riku would have screamed, more of shock then pain, for he really felt no sense of agony, but the tightness clenched his windpipe, choking of all means for any sound, screams depleting themselves as they tried to find a way out of his gaping mouth.

The suction slowly ceased, releasing the pressure it was building on every inch of Riku's flesh that had begun to crawl with uncomfortable tingles. Tiny pin drops of sweat beaded across his pale skin, causing his clothes to stick to his body like a second skin. Cold air wrapped itself around his thin body, squeezing slightly, making the vapor on his body slowly cool away. It left a trembling coldness on his arms, torso, and legs, but this fact was quickly forgotten when he caught a blond blob move somewhere off to his right.

Head snapping towards said direction, he caught sight of the body which held the messy slop of yellow. A scarf was wrapped tightly around a man's throat, mouth, and nose, steam leaking through the top of the wool and creeping up through the winter air, only to twirl once before dwindling away into nothingness. Gloved hands were stuffed into pockets, keen to escape the frigid air. The parka, which was a moldy-looking brown with tears that were neatly sewn back together and worn down to a few strands scraping along the cloth with frayed ends, was puffy and thick around the man. His brown slacks looked thin and hardly suitable for such weather, the boots underneath the leggings sopping wet and with their soles slapping along the slushy streets as they separated from the rest of the shoe, showing white socks. But despite the raggedy appearance of a poor man, blue eyes bright with candid humor lit up his appearance in merriment, and they seemed to be bright enough, warm enough, to keep any sort of cold away.

"Tidus..." Riku murmured in awe. He stood there for several moments, the only sound being the crisp crunching of snow beneath Tidus' feet and the soft whisper of snowy wind that gusted through the air and blowing through sleeping homes and empty streets, twisting through the dark night's stars.

"Hey... aren't ya gonna follow him?" Goofy asked curiously, confused by Riku's statue-like position.

Goofy's voice brought Riku out of his stupor, making the man shake his head to catch up with reality. When he finally regained some bit of composure, Riku gathered his courage back up into a bundle, making sure it was in check with his rapidly beating heart as to what he would find at Tidus' house, and moved forward.

Tidus was, Riku found, gently humming a Christmas carol under his breath. The melody sent shivers down Riku's spine. It brought back an uneasy set of memories, all drifting through his mind and sending his emotions into an oblivion of sadness. He and Sora... had used to sing carols like this. Or even hum them, walking home from the publishing shop on late December nights. Going door to door, singing the same lyrics over and over again, ones that never grew old and never failed to bring a happy face to those of passerby.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Goofy asked gently, pressing a hand to Riku's shoulder and squeezing reassuringly . "You look like you're about to cr---"

"Nothing is wrong," Riku snapped, abruptly twisting his body as he yanked himself from Goofy's hold and furling his face to the side and ducking it, silver bangs hanging over his face to hide himself from his companion. Goofy said nothing more, instead choosing to walk in silence by the stony-faced adult who was sending withering glares at the snow beneath his feet.

The streetlights were growing fewer and fewer in number, their scarce light dizzying in the blur of darkness that surrounded them all. The soft glow illuminated the snow in the air where it shown, making it seems like they were walking through white fleece when passing under the lamp posts. The dark areas was nothing but walking through black ice, leaving the body aching to retrieve the sweet sanctuary of warm light that the lamps gave off.

The blond, still humming quite cheerfully under his breath, took a turn down a narrow street. It made Riku's pace falter a bit, a deep frown settling over his features. "What is he doing down this street?"

Goofy didn't answer. For he knew very well why, and had no intention of being the bearer of bad news to an already sullen man.

Riku followed his nephew, keeping his pace brisk to mirror Tidus' own footfalls, keeping five feet behind him as if the man honestly thought Tidus could hear him if he crept too close.

Finally, some five minutes later, they reached a battened down door. It seemed to not have been bolted in correctly for there was an inch long gap, starting narrow by the hinges before steeping down steadily towards the end of the tarnished wooden frame.

Tidus marched happily up to it, shaking a hand loose from a pocket to grasp the bronze handle with a gloved hand, fumbling a bit before managing to slip it open. Despite the horrible impression the lonesome front of the house had given, perceived by both newcomers as old and decrepit, when the door was opened, both Goofy and Riku were bathed in the warmest glow of sugar-cookie scented cloud, washing over their skin and adding the tiniest of twinkles in the corners of their eyes. Except for Goofy, to which the twinkle grew brighter, seeing as he always seemed to be bouncing with joy.

Riku stood there, watching as Tidus finally stepped through. Loud peals of laughter suddenly rung out from the tiny home, sounding brighter and louder than anything Riku'd ever heard before. Edging closer to the doorway, he slowly peaked his head through the door and blinked.

Tidus was now on the floor, his scarf laying open and under his neck, haven come unraveled. Stuck to his chest, apparently clinging for dear life, were three tiny children. One had a mess of blond hair crammed on his hair, like his father, with a thin scar running sideways down his face. Another had straight brown hair to her shoulders, the little brunette with her arms wrapped tightly around Tidus' neck as she giggled, smacking a kiss on his cheek. The third looked to be too tiny to walk on her own, but nevertheless, she sat proudly on her father's chest. Her blonde hair was in a mess of braids that flopped every which way on her head and down her back, ending in mahogany beads. All three children looked a bit worse for wear. They're clothes looked better suited for fall. Though long-sleeved and panted, long skirts for the girls, they all had an assortment of tears that were, once again, sewed neatly together. The clothes were obviously cotton and looked very thin.

Riku stood there in silence, watching as Tidus struggled to stand, laden down with the burden of his children's weight and his own turmoil of loud laughter. But he didn't seem to mind, really...

"Tidus, you're home!"

Riku, who was in the middle of stepping over the threshold, moved over out of habit as a brunette came bustling happily bye, pushing the door back closed. Riku saw Goofy step through the door, but he focused his gaze on Selphie's bright face as her green eyes narrowed playfully at her husband and children's playful banter.

"And where have you been, Mister?" she asked, a mocking tone in her voice. Her eyes glinted with silent laughter, lips curled up into a big smile.

"Visiting Riku, of course!" Seeing his wife's partly eager, partly hopeful gaze, Tidus' smile fell a bit, now with a hint of sadness in it. "I'm afraid he won't be joining us..."

Riku's heart tinged a little bit, guilt thrilling up inside of him at the sound of sadness in Tidus' words. His wife, Selphie, only made Riku feel worse.

"I did not really expect him to..." she murmured with a tiny sigh. "But I hoped... that, well, he would get better after a year. And maybe..."

"He will come around," Tidus assured her. Groaning, the blond began to shuffle through his three children in a fight to sit up, and then to stand. "Come on, kids, time to get off..."

"Uncle Riku is not coming?" the brunette asked sadly, bright eyes staring up at her father. Riku was slightly amused to see that her parents' genes had had a battle with this one; one eye was green, the other blue.

"I am afraid not, Yuna," Tidus quipped. He lifted her into his arms before settling her down on one strong shoulder. "But we're gonna go visit him tomorrow!"

"Yay!" she squealed, wrapping her thin arms around Tidus' head in as much of a hug as she could muster, tiny fists clenching into blond tuffs of hair.

"Why should we go and visit _him_?" the blond boy hissed, eyes glaring up into blue ones.

"Because he is your uncle," Tidus reprimanded, leaning town to lightly flick his son's nose. Riku watched as the small blond stuck his tongue out at Tidus before scuttling off, trotting towards the small table that stood at the end of a one-roomed floor.

"Gawrsh, sure seems like a nice place," Goofy commented, making Riku nearly jump out of his skin in surprise. Once again, he had forgotten that the presence of a spirit was standing right behind him.

"Nice?" Riku snorted. He waved an arm around the dirty house, the motion sweeping over a threadbare carpet, cracked walls with molted paint, a fireplace with cracked bricks; a tiny stove with what looked to be the tiniest of chickens ever borne roasting in the glowing red embers, shudders that were boarded up for the winter to keep out the chill, dirty dishtowels clogging up the numerous gaps that ran throughout the walls and under the windows, gaping through door frames.

"Now don't you be that way!" Goofy said, glaring and leaning forward with his hands curled on his hips again. "Now tell me truthfully, this home... what's the difference between here and your place?"

"Mine is suitable to live in?"

"Anything else?"

Riku frowned in compensation, brows furrowed as he thought. What _did _this place have that his house did not? The only source of light and heat was in a coal-burning stove, not an oil lamp to be seen. The table and chairs looked as if they could not hold more then five pounds each. Every inch of space looked well-used, tarnished, not clean like it was in Riku's house.

And then it hit him.

"This place... is a home," Riku whispered. "It feels so much different from mine... It feels..."

"Warm?" Goofy asked, looking quite delighted at the fact that Riku had finally caught on. "Safe?"

He beamed at Riku's tiny nod of consent.

"And they were willing to share all of this with you," Goofy reminded him. He too motioned around the room with a grand wave of his hand. But this time, Riku caught the sight with a new light. The tarnished space looked well used with love, cherished and used at every chance the family could have. The small chicken looked like a grand feast, the table and chairs telling stories of hundreds of family dinners, their laughter and chatter lining every circle in the wood, until it became so loud and infection that the house itself cracked from it.

"It is not much too share..." Riku murmured, desperately plucking at anything that could serve as a decent argument.

"But they wanted to anyway," said Goofy sternly. "And you turned them down... and it's Christmas, too!"

Riku ignored him, his face becoming stone once again. Selphie, upon her husband's return, had clogged the one inch gap above the door with a towel, was now saying: "Rikku, go and get Luffy, would you?"

"'Rikku'?" Riku muttered. "What in..."

"Don't ya remember?" Goofy exclaimed. "They named her after you all those years ago!"

"No... I don't remember," Riku replied stiffly. He sniffed, and resumed listening to the family's conversation.

"I'll go and get him," Tidus volunteered. He bounded over to the stairwell and hopped up them two-at-a-time, making Selphie laugh as her three children bugged her as to why he was allowed to do it and they were not.

Moments later, young laughter, mixed in with Tidus' rich voice, floated down from the upstairs. Tidus came trotting down the stairs with a small boy perched on his shoulder, tiny arms wrapped around his head.

Riku had always thought of Luffy as an oddball, from the way he behaved to the way he looked. His raven black hair was sloppy, but not spiked up as Tidus' was or as neat as Selphie's. His dark eyes were the perfect contrast to his parents'. The only similarity Luffy shared with his family was a scar that ran along his left cheek, his brother Seifer having a scar as well.

"Dad, dad, I was a pirate today!" he was laughing, a huge grin smeared on his face.

"Oh, were you?" Tidus said distractedly as he carried his smallest son to the table.

"Yeah! I was the king of the seven seas!" he squealed.

"Interesting."

"Daaad, are you listening to me?"

"Mhmm."

"Yeah, yeah! I was the pirate king from those stories Uncle Sora and Uncle Riku used to tell us! Remember those?"

"Sure do, Luffy."

Luffy's speech grew so fast that it was no longer coherent, but his father paid rapt attention anyway, as if he could understand every word coming from his mouth. Everyone else was gathering at the table now. Seifer was sitting next to Rikku and was attempting to pull on his sister's braids until she firmly kicked him in the shins for it. Yuna sat down quietly, smiling gently and waiting patiently with her hands folded neatly on her lap. Luffy was still rambling to an only half-listening parent as Selphie carried the small chicken to the middle of the table, pausing only to reach down and give her husband a quick peck on the lips. All the other children at the table made noises of utmost disgust, making the two adults laugh loudly.

"All right, it is time to eat!" the brunette said happily, green eyes dancing in the candle light as she took her place at the opposite end of the table. "Let us say our thanks."

Riku was silent through Selphie's prayer, in which she thanked all of the members of the family at least twice. _That is definitely Selphie_, Riku thought absent-mindedly. That foreign feeling was back, and this time, it was out of fondness. But now Riku did not even try to hide it. He did not _want _to hide it.

"And lastly, thank you to Uncle Riku," Selphie finished, "for this fine meal, and for the cherished memories he has brought to us. We hope that wherever he is now, whatever he is doing, he finds his happiness during this time of year. Thank you, Lord. Amen."

As "Amen," was chorused around the table, a deep well of sadness frothed within Riku's heart. After all this time, all the grief he had caused them, they still had it in them to care?

"Hey... how about we go back, now, huh?" Goofy suggested hesitantly, leaning forward and gently grasping Riku's trembling shoulder. "You don't look too good..."

Riku said nothing; he had no more words to speak. Understanding his silence, Goofy gently tugged Riku back and that swallowing sensation was back, sucking at every pore and fiber of the man's being. But did he take notice of it? No. He was too busy, steeped within his own thoughts that could not even make sense of themselves.

_Why would someone take the time to care about me?_

Stability returned to the ground, Riku's legs feeling more like jelly then blood and bone. Goofy helped him over to the bed, that was still a mess from his tossing and turning earlier on. He gently pulled back the sheets and lowered Riku's body to the mattress.

_I have only brought to them pain..._

"Get some sleep," Goofy advised, trying in vein to bring a smile forthwith that just would not come. "The last spirit will be the toughest one of us all.

_Am I really as alone as I thought I was?_

"G'night, Riku."

Riku said nothing in return.

_Have I really been wrong all these years?_

The warmth flickered and died in a heartbeat, the cold filling his barren house once more. Cold, stiff sheets enveloped his body like weights, holding him down and making him feel stiff. His limbs were involuntarily stubborn, refusing to move, the drifty haze of sleep calmly shutting his eyes for him.

_Sora... have I been so wrong?_

And slowly, his body seeped through his bed, drifting down into the shelter of his mind for many a hours of dreamless slumber.

_End_

**This turned out to be longer than expected. I hope you all liked it' I enjoyed writing it. Tell me if something is horribly wrong, out of place, or I just suck at life in general. Or if you thought it was good, you can tell me that, too. Whatever. I'm so busy because I have a lot to write and no one to beta for me. So I have to check all of this stuff myself. Ugh.**

**Merry Christmas Eve. Last chapter out tomorrow, on Christmas Day!**


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